Several light bulbs embedded in the wall were emitting a faint glow. They were dim and gloomy, with one or two occasionally flickering, reminding me of the high school students who would nod their heads involuntarily in class, even though they were trying to stay awake.
The escalators, old and new, creaked as they moved. The sound was loud and rhythmic, as if dragging people with various luggage, causing them great pain, and every step they climbed required their utmost effort.
I half-closed my eyelids, letting my gaze sink into a brief darkness, quietly listening to the roar and panting of the beast beneath my feet.
I couldn't remember how many corners I had turned or how many elevators I had taken. Of course, saying that I couldn't remember wasn't entirely accurate; "couldn't be bothered" would be a more appropriate description. After all, even though it was late at night, the subway station was always full of tired or excited people. I believed that in such a situation, emptying my mind and going with the flow would lead me smoothly to the terminal.
The night brought tranquility, but tranquility bred sorrow, melancholy, and decadence. In a night destined to be sleepless, taking a moment to be lazy was the only consolation.
I rarely travel at night. Compared to the darkness of the night, I prefer to spend some time under the dazzling artificial lights, sipping my favorite drink, nestling in a chair covered with a soft blanket, daydreaming, dozing off, or playing a small game.
I wasn't planning to go, and I had already made plans to climb Baiyun Mountain while enjoying the spring. However, I am not a decisive and resolute person, and as the day approached, I became more and more entangled and hesitant. Finally, after trading a pair of deep dark circles for a good night's sleep, I convinced myself with reasons that even I found lame: after all, this was a major event in life, probably only once.
But nowadays, who can really say that something is once in a lifetime?
Tsk tsk tsk, it seems like I'm getting sleepy and shouldn't say such unlucky words.
When I came back to my senses, I was already holding onto the handrail, standing steadily on the speeding subway. Now, a few older men were chatting happily.
Their hair was still black, but it had started to show signs of decline, like bushes in the desert, presenting a cluster of scenes. Especially on the top of their heads, a few dark red patches of soil, uh, scalp, were inevitably exposed; their waists were not thick, but their bellies still protruded, giving their shirts a round contour. One of them, who was slightly shorter, was holding onto the top handrail and resting his head on his own fat, tense muscles, chatting enthusiastically with the others.
I couldn't understand their fast-paced, vaguely pronounced words. Although I had heard this dialect many times during my days of working, as a passerby, I had no intention of learning it. Faced with various uncertainties, as a human being, I could easily travel far and wide with the help of the steel torrent, without needing to exert effort on such things.
There's a saying, isn't there? It seems to be called, "Not making connections only increases loneliness."
I sniffed and smelled a scent mixed with sweat and a salty taste, which was a bit stimulating. That was the smell of a hospital, something that patients would smell when a thin needle was inserted into their veins in a room. Perhaps it was because I was weak and sickly as a child, even though I hadn't had a serious illness in many years, this smell still felt familiar to me, even fascinating.
But ultimately, it wasn't something good. I quickly glanced at the several men who were laughing heartily. They all looked healthy and energetic, which made me feel happy. Unfortunately, just as I was lost in thought, they walked out with smiles, quickly disappearing into the crowd, their not-so-tall figures submerged.
I smiled. After all, it was a chance encounter, and it was pointless to be entangled in such trivial matters. I had fallen into a trap of my own making.
The midnight airport was also filled with heavy silence. There were no bustling crowds, no long lines at security checkpoints. Standing under the tall dome, I felt that compared to the daytime, the surroundings were even more empty and terrifying, as if there was something lurking ahead, selecting its prey and weaving ethereal and dangerous traps.
Heh, I almost laughed at myself. Silent nights are always suitable for idle thoughts. I shrugged my shoulders—although there was hardly any movement due to the weight of my backpack—and took a step forward.
I haven't been here much, just a few times. But perhaps it was fate, about half of those times were during the night. Even though it was difficult for me to decipher the layout map, I could still rely on my understanding of the night to guide me to the corners that were often visited and stayed overnight.
Unfortunately, tonight the hall had turned on a few more lights, making it too bright and causing me to get lost.
Oh well, oh well, I'll find an empty row of chairs and take a nap.
Hopefully, when I wake up, I'll be able to fly under the blue sky and white clouds, regaining some strength.